


you for me, and i for you

by SarcasticSargassum



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Gift Giving, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Love Languages, M/M, One Shot Collection, Other, Post-Episode: s03e01-02 Juno Steel and the Man in Glass, Sleepy Cuddles, Trans Peter Nureyev, Words of Affirmation, its like 5 fics all tacked together idk what else u want from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSargassum/pseuds/SarcasticSargassum
Summary: A handful of fics about Jupeter and different love languages, ranging from short drabbles to longer character studies.This is my fic for the TPP Valentine's day exchange!
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 28
Kudos: 79
Collections: TPP Valentine's Exchange





	1. Gift-Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Juno steals something for a thief

Since they reconciled, Juno’s come to realize he may be dating a human magpie. It barely took a week before a litany of brightly-wrapped gifts started popping up in his space: outside his door, on his bedside table, under his pillow when he wakes up alone.

It’s nice, really. Juno’s never been one for trinkets, but at least fifty percent of that came from growing up in a neighborhood where anything not bolted down would probably be stolen sooner or later. Now that the only thieves he has to worry about are the ones giving him the things in the first place, he’s grown to enjoy them- a glittering reminder of Nureyev’s devotion on his wrist or perched on his dresser so he can see them when he wakes up.

When he presents the mark’s delicate silver glasses chain to Nureyev after the heist, the soft lamplight making the amethysts glow like tiny stars in the reflection of Nureyev’s eyes, the expression on his face looks like Juno’s just handed him the universe. 

Juno knows, right there and then, that’s exactly what he wants to do.


	2. Words of Affirmation

Words have always come easy to Peter Nureyev, a necessity that became habit over years of fast-talking and deception. He’s used language to worm his way into the most elite social circles, past the most tight-wound guards, out of the stickiest situations, but recently he's turned his skills to a different purpose.

One that is, in his opinion, far more worthwhile than any other.

 _Wonderful, gorgeous, amazing_ \- he steals turns of phrase and couplets from poets of every era, pieces them together with his own and presents them to Juno until the saccharine words are enough to make both their teeth hurt from grinning like lovesick fools.

 _Pretty, perfect, good-_ he learns which adorations bring a flush to Juno’s cheeks and pairs them with a finger trailing down a spine or a smirk that flashes his teeth, learns that there is a kind of pride and pleasure in seeing Juno flustered and breathless on nearly every occasion.

 _Brave, strong, enough_ \- there are nights when nothing he says can dissuade Juno of the dark cloud that haunts him. These are the hardest. Still, he repeats the words he knows to be true, adds reassurance to the white noise as Juno muffles his tears into his chest.

 _I love you_ , he mouths into the crown of Juno’s head, and prays he hears it.


	3. Physical Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Nureyev wakes up to a bed that is not empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- brief mentions of canon-typical body image issues re: Nureyev and brief allusions to dysphoria

Nureyev blinks awake to fingers carding through his hair, tucking strands that are far too silver for his liking behind his ear with a tenderness that makes him ache. Juno’s smile blooms across his face from where he gazes at him from across the pillows. 

“Mornin’, Nureyev.” Juno looks at him with something like awe, or admiration, maybe- and it’s then that Nureyev realizes he’s not wearing his makeup.

He forces down the instinct that pushes him to rush out of bed, to sprint to the bathroom so he can define his jaw and give depth to the hollows of his face, but Juno must notice the way his muscles tense. His brow crinkles and his hand comes down to cup Nureyev’s cheek. “You ok there, honey?”

“Yes, everything’s perfectly alright.” Juno doesn’t buy it, if the suspicious glint in his eyes is anything to go by. Maybe it’s the warm safety that surrounds him here or the last remnants of sleep that still grasp at the edges of him, but he caves far more quickly than usual. “Just… I think you’re the first person in years to see me barefaced like this.”

“Oh.” Nureyev braces himself for what he’s sure comes next, the change in Juno’s expression as those clever eyes of his begin to categorize his every wrinkle and blemish. Instead, what he gets is a kiss to his temple, left with a kind of careless affection that takes his breath away. “I’m honored, then. You’re really handsome like this, Nureyev.”

“Really?” He means it to come out skeptical, but halfway through it turns breathless and pleading. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” Juno says, like it’s an immutable fact of the universe- _gravity pulls things together, planets revolve around stars, Peter Nureyev is handsome_. “I mean, you’re handsome all the time, but-” He leans forward, pressing gentle kisses to his freckles, the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, the softened curve of his jaw that he’s never been able to permanently whittle down into anything more masculine. Juno’s lips trace it with such reverence that he wonders how he ever thought of changing it in the first place. “I dunno. You’re just cool, I guess.”

That snaps Nureyev from his lovesick trance, drawing an undignified snort from him before he can stop it. “Cool?”

“Look, I’m still sleepy, alright? Sorry if I’m not at the height of eloquence when I woke up, like, three minutes ago.” Juno’s brow furrows in the most adorable way when he scowls, and the quirk of his lips as he fights the urge to smile is something Nureyev could devote his life to. 

Instead, he shuffles forward to bury his face in Juno’s chest. “You know… we don’t have any chores today.”

“No, we don’t.”

“So we don’t have to get out of bed for a good while yet.” Nureyev tilts his chin to grin up at Juno, pulling him a little closer. Juno huffs, already moving to hold Nureyev even as he feigns resistance.

“What do I get if I stay, huh?”

“Oh, you’ll have to forgive me, Juno. My motives are, unfortunately, purely selfish.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. You see, my love-” Nureyev sighs, using the slump in his shoulders to burrow a little further into Juno’s embrace. “it’s so dreadfully cold in this room, and without your warmth I fear I may freeze to death.”

“Compelling,” Juno chuckles. “Well, if it’s for you, I’m sure I can manage it.”

“How gracious of you.” He’s not sure if the laugh that rumbles through him comes from him or Juno, but he hardly cares enough to parse out its origin. Juno’s arms are warm and solid around him, steady, strong hands tracing delicate patterns along his spine, and he relaxes and lets himself be loved.


	4. Quality Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Nureyev gets his hair done and ruminates on the importance of time

Nureyev takes his responsibilities as a thief very seriously.

He studies every blueprint he’s given with clinical precision, hones his body’s strength and flexibility until he can pull off whatever maneuvers are asked of him, and keeps his hands nimble enough to pluck any jewel from the neck of the most heavily watched socialite in the galaxy. However, there are times where he has never wished for anything more than he wishes to throw responsibility to the wind entirely.

As Juno's last knock fades into emptiness, Nureyev concludes that this is absolutely one of those times.

He pushes himself to his feet, abandoning the schematics he’d been poring over with a wince as he hears his knees pop. By the time he’s crossed the room, an apology is half-formed on his lips, even as he wants nothing more than to let Juno kiss it off them.

But there’s no time for that. He hits the panel to the door and lets the sound of it sliding open mask a reluctant sigh. “Juno, I’m truly sorry, but poetry night may have to wait. Captain Aurinko’s given me some new files to look over, and-” He cuts himself off, finally processing the sight in front of him. Juno’s not holding the battered brown notebook he usually brings to poetry nights. Instead, his hands cradle a hairbrush, comb, and a container of assorted hairpins. “Juno? What are those for?”

“Oh.” Juno looks down at the items he’s holding, like he’s only just remembered he’s carrying them. “Well, uh… I overheard Buddy giving you the blueprints, so I realized you wouldn’t be able to do poetry night, but I figured, maybe I could. Um. Hang around anyways?” The last few words come out in a rush, like he’s asking Nureyev to steal a star instead of requesting a couple hours of his company. Nureyev would do both for him, of course, but at this moment the latter almost seems harder.

“I would love nothing more, dear, but… I’m not entirely confident in the quality of my companionship right now.” That’s an understatement- there’s a reason he never lets anyone see him study. He’s mastered the art of locking himself to one thing and one thing only, fixating on it for unbroken hours until it’s ingrained so deeply in his mind that nothing could drag it out. It works, of course, but he’s well aware of how it looks from an outside perspective. “I will never turn down the pleasure of your presence, of course, merely- you have to understand, Juno, I-”

“It’s fine, N- uh, Ransom.” Juno cuts him off with a gentle hand hovering inches from his chest. “I don’t- I don’t really think I could talk tonight either, anyway. You can do your thing, I just- I just wanted to spend some time together, is all.” He sighs. “You, uh, don’t have to say yes, obviously. I get it might be a little weird, just having me sitting around while you study, so-”

“Yes.” The word slips out before Nureyev really realizes it’s left his brain, and he steps aside to allow Juno passage into his room. It seems to take Juno by surprise just as much as it does him, and it feels like no time and an eternity all at once before the door closes again and they’re standing awkwardly amid the clutter.

Juno breaks the silence first, as he so often does. “Nice place you got, Nureyev. Is that pile of laundry new, or did it just gain sentience since the last time I was here?”

“Very funny, detective.” Mentally, Nureyev adds _do laundry_ to his to-do list for tomorrow. “You can sit on the bed if you’d like.”

“Oh! Right, sure.” Juno takes a couple steps towards the bed before turning, holding up the hairbrush. “Um. Actually, if it’s okay with you, I was wondering if I could do your hair?”  
  
The proposal somehow takes Nureyev by surprise, despite the fact that he really should have seen it coming. “Why?” he asks before he can think, and regrets it as soon as that small bloom of awkward vulnerability closes and retreats from Juno’s eyes.

“Nevermind. You’re right, it’s weird, I-”

“Love.” Nureyev sidesteps a case of throwing knives to take the hand not white-knuckling a comb in his. “I’m not objecting. I just don’t see what’s so appealing, from _your_ perspective, about brushing my hair while I memorize air vents.” 

“I mean, it’s time with you.” Juno shrugs, saying the words with an easy sincerity that’s utterly unaware of the way they’ve just struck straight to Nureyev’s heart. “Isn’t that enough?” 

“ _Juno,_ ” Nureyev breathes, because he’s not sure he knows how to say anything else at the moment. It doesn't make sense, that just a simple pair of phrases could make the floor fall from beneath his feet, but the way Juno makes him feel has never made much sense anyways. 

Juno is still looking at him for an answer, and he grasps to provide one. Words start to come to him, a familiar reflex to cover up the thing blossoming in his chest with fake flowery language. “I- In this line of work, time is- it’s-” He stutters, falters, the nonsequitur slipping from his grasp. It feels like a monumental effort and the easiest thing in the world, when Juno looks at him like that, to clear his throat, brush away plastic-petal deflection, to start again. “I’d… I’d like that very much. Where would you like me to sit?”

It doesn’t take long at all for them to get situated, Juno propped up against the headboard with Nureyev cross-legged in front of him. His blueprints and notebook are balanced on a pillow he’d found buried beneath an evening gown- Juno’s insistence, as so not to strain his back hunching over his papers. The lights he’d strung like a canopy over his bed cast them both in a gentle yellow glow, a golden sanctuary among the masks and weapons that populate his room.

Juno’s hands card through his hair, short-clipped nails scratching against his scalp, and he can’t help the way he arches into the touch. A pleased hum slips from his throat when Juno laughs, rubbing soft circles into the area behind his ears.

“Mm- that’s nice. More of that, please.”

“Y’know, if someone had told me having a boyfriend was basically having a cat with extra steps, I’d have just gotten the cat,” Juno grouses, but Nureyev can’t even try to act offended as long as Juno keeps obliging. He purrs once just to feel his heart flutter at Juno’s laugh, then gets to work.

After that, he falls deeper into his studying, scanning the same systems over and over until he knows them by heart. The only thing that differentiates this session from all the ones that came before it are the soft interjections from Juno behind him- a couple instructions of “head up, babe” or “hold still for a second while I pin this, okay?” interspersed with little noises of frustration or delight. It’s not enough to draw him fully out of his focus, but he feels a little lighter when he’s reminded to come back to himself, taking the opportunity to crack his knuckles or adjust his position where his leg is beginning to fall asleep. 

“Gorgeous,” Nureyev tells him after seeing the first result- a complex braided updo that curves around the crown of his head and glitters with rhinestone clips he swears he’s seen in Rita’s room before. “Absolutely incredible, Juno.”

“Right?” Juno grins, pecks him on the cheek, and then begins taking the pins out. “That one was actually what gave me the idea. I saw it on one of Rita’s streams and thought it would look good on you.” 

As strands of hair begin falling around his ears, Nureyev can’t help but feel a strange sense of loss. “You’ll… be going, then? Now that you’re done?” 

Juno freezes behind him. “Um. I mean, like, if you want me to? I had some other styles, though-”

“Oh, thank the stars,” Nureyev breathes, leaning into the gentle pressure of Juno’s palm against the nape of his neck. Juno laughs and presses a kiss to the top of his head before beginning to brush out his hair again.

Time is precious in his line of work- every moment of a heist is calculated down to the millisecond for a reason. Even more than that, time is important to _him_. He has been acutely aware of every tick of his internal clock as far back as he can remember, always counting the days-hours-minutes until his time runs out, or his debt is due, or a new wrinkle or grey hair appears on him like a scratch on a pane of glass. 

He assumes, then, that time is as important to Juno as it is to him. Because if that is true, Juno wouldn’t do something he considered a waste of those precious moments. Juno considers Peter Nureyev _worth his time_ , and even as he mutters the same pattern of corridors under his breath over and over again, that revelation warms him with every pass of the comb through his hair.

After the fourth style, Juno uncoils the twist at the back of his head and yawns. “Alright, time for bed. Wrap it up.” 

Nureyev scoffs, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “Juno, it’s barely one AM. I can keep going.” As hard as he fights it, the last few words come out stretched around a mirroring yawn. He very purposefully does not look at Juno’s face, but he is certain the detective is rolling his eyes behind him. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just because you _can_ keep going doesn’t mean you should, Nureyev. It’s better for your memory if you get more sleep, you know.”

“I’ll be _fine_ , Juno, I- ack!” He’s so busy crafting his retort that he doesn’t notice the arms shooting under his knees until Juno’s standing, whisking him off the bed into a bridal carry. “Juno Steel, put me down _this instant!_ ” 

“Are you gonna go to bed if I do?” 

“I-” He pauses for a few moments, hands braced against Juno’s chest to keep his balance, before reluctantly letting his head fall back. “Let me just copy down the last few details about this security system?”

“Sure.”

“And I’ll need to do my skincare routine before bed.”

“Of course.”

Juno is still holding him.

“...Dear? Could you let me down now?”

“Oh! Yeah, shit, sorry.” Juno lowers him back to the bed like he’s trying not to break him- an unnecessary sentiment, but one Nureyev finds very sweet nonetheless. “Um. Was that, like… too pushy or something? I’m really sorry if it was, I-”

“You’re fine, darling.” Nureyev stretches up to peck him on the cheek before grabbing his notebook. “My protests are only to keep up appearances, I assure you.”

“Oh, good.” Juno smiles, falling back onto the bed again to wait. “‘Cause that’s what Rita always used to do, and, I mean, it worked on me, but I also know she can be… a lot.”

“Rita picked you up?”

“I mean… she tried? It was usually more her trying to physically drag me out of the office, but you’d be surprised how strong she is when she’s on a mission.” Juno laughs, and Nureyev can’t help it- he laughs too, jotting down the final notes for this blueprint. 

He’s not sure who slips whose hand into whose as they make their way to the bathroom, but he holds on for as long as he can. Juno brushes his teeth and washes his face with something Nureyev pocketed for him on Khonsu that smells like a lemony summer sky. He perches on the counter while Nureyev does his skincare routine, watching him in a comfortable silence. 

When they reach his door, he half expects Juno to keep moving to his own. Instead, he hesitates- the briefest moment, barely a second, but it’s the last stretch of time Nureyev needs to take one more risk.“Would you like to stay the night?” he asks, his hand hovering over the keypad. He prays that even in his weary state, he’s retained the ability to hide just how nervous he is. 

“I’d love that,” Juno says, and Nureyev glows.


	5. Acts of Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Juno has a bad day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: this chapter starts with Juno undergoing a depressive spiral and describes that and the feelings associated with it. it still ends with fluff because *gestures to the rest of the fic* but if that's not your cup of tea i totally understand. take care of yourself!

Sometimes Juno wishes he were easier to ignore. It’s not a healthy thought to have, or at least that’s what Buddy says. On his good days he knows how to face it, acknowledges it as a byproduct of old habit and makes himself reach out instead of wallowing in self-isolation.

Today, he decides- decided hours ago, honestly- is not a good day. And every time Nureyev knocks on the door, he can feel it threatening to get worse.

“Juno? Rita said you were having a bad day, so I brought some food.” Nureyev’s voice slips in through the cracks, just loud enough to hear. Juno huffs and turns over in bed so he’s not facing the door, hoping if he’s quiet enough Nureyev will just go away. He doesn’t even feel like he’d be able to eat right now- the fog that smothers him is strong enough today that the coordinated motions required to eat whatever Vespa’s cooked up seem impossible. 

“Juno?” God, even the way Nureyev says his _name_ makes him feel… whatever the hell this is, something budding and warm trying to bloom and immediately getting trampled by the thousand derisive voices running through his brain. “Love, are you alright?” The answer, of course, is no, unless your standards for “alright” are lower than the conviction rate amongst HCPD officers. And now he’s thinking about the HCPD, which is an even worse topic to think about, and Nureyev’s knocking again, and-

“Dear, I-” Nureyev sighs, in that way he does when he’s trying to buy himself a moment of composure. “I know it’s a bad time, and I know you may not want to see anyone right now, but- call me selfish if you like, but I would appreciate some sign that you’re alive in there.”

For a second Juno considers not doing anything, just rolling over in bed and letting Nureyev give up on him like he should’ve long ago- and then it hits him. Of _course_ Nureyev doesn’t want to be on the other side of a locked door right now, especially when Juno’s supposed to be getting _better, Steel, you idiot_ -

He lets out a loud grumble before he’s even finished beating himself up, and the sigh of relief that barely reaches his ears just makes his heart ache more. Guilt isn’t an unfamiliar feeling, especially on days like these, but this is a new way for it to hit him in the face. 

“I’m just going to come in for a moment, alright, love? Rita instructed me to make sure you drink some water, at least.”

Of _course_ Rita’s behind this. Rita knows how to handle these days- he gave her blanket permission to barge in and check on him if she was worried years ago, then reworked that blanket permission several times because it turns out Rita gets worried a lot. Point is, by now he doesn’t care if Rita sees him like this. 

He _does_ care if Nureyev sees him, though. Nureyev’s seen him at bad times, sure, but he hasn’t been present for a capital-B capital-D Bad Day since they joined the Carte Blanche. It’s probably important to show Nureyev this side of him too, some day, but- _god_ , he really doesn’t want to. Doesn’t matter what he wants, though, because the door is sliding open and his time to stare at the ceiling and silently introspect is up. Nureyev slips in with a steamed bun and a water bottle, picking his way across the room until he’s standing by the bed. At Juno’s nod, he sits down, perched stiffly near his head.

“S’ry about the mess,” Juno mumbles, shifting under the covers so he’s at eye level with the beaded design snaking its way around Nureyev’s pocket. He tried to keep his room neat and mostly succeeded until now, but a slowly declining week of not being able to care about one chore or another adds up.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Juno. I certainly have no room to judge.” Nureyev shifts in place, eyes absently flicking across the piles of clutter for a moment until he seems to remember what he’s there for. “Ah- I did promise Rita I’d get you to consume something. Could you sit up for me, dear?”

Juno lets out a tired growl, curling deeper into the covers. “Why should I?”

“Well, I’m not leaving until you drink some water, and I’d prefer you not aspirate on it, love.” 

“Ugh…” Juno manages to muster up enough indignant exhaustion for a glare, but Nureyev just looks blankly back at him. The longer the standoff stretches on, the more apparent it is that Nureyev doesn’t plan to leave until he does something to take care of himself. “Fine.” He shuffles himself up against the headboard and snatches the water bottle from Nureyev’s outstretched hand like it’s personally offended him, unscrewing the cap and starting to sip from it. Nureyev, for his part, just watches him intently- like a depressed, dehydrated Juno Steel is the most important sight he’s ever seen.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” 

“Just admiring you, dear.”

Juno scoffs. “Yeah, right.” Nureyev just shrugs, letting his gaze drift back to Juno's room. 

“Am I correct in assuming you’ll manage to get something in you without dying if I leave your side for a moment, Juno?” he asks after a moment, and it takes a few seconds for the question to register.

“I mean… sure?”

“Wonderful.” Nureyev turns back and blows him a kiss before standing up and heading over to the nearest pile of laundry. “Then may I pick up your room a little while you eat?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, but I’d like to, as long as you’re not curating this mess for an ulterior purpose.” Nureyev arches one elegant brow from across the room, and Juno can’t muster up the energy to argue about this. A little voice in the back of his head that sounds vaguely like Rita reminds him that it’ll probably be good for him, or whatever.

“Knock yourself out,” he grumbles, stifling a yawn.

“I’ll do my best not to, dearest.” Juno watches as Nureyev starts cleaning up, downing sips of water in between questions about what needs to go where. He picks at the steamed bun for a bit before scarfing it down, then manages to get through most of the bottle of water. Nureyev’s face brightens when he sees, distracting him from where he’s folding a turtleneck unceremoniously dumped on the floor. 

“Are you done?”

“Still got some water.” Juno slumps back under the blankets, drawing them up around himself again as he watches Nureyev return to his work. “Why’re you doing that, anyway?”

"I'm tucking in the sleeves so they take up less space when I put them in your drawers. I learned it from a stream Rita showed me, Miss Kondo is really-"

"You know that's not what I meant," Juno cuts in, rolling his eyes. "I mean- why all of this? Why not just let Rita take care of it and wait until I'm better again?" _Why waste your time when I'm like_ this? is what he means, but something in his throat that bites at the words stops them from making it out. 

Nureyev pauses, stilling his hands and worrying his lip first in the way he does when he's composing a monologue in his head, then in the way he does when he distills that monologue down to bare-bones truth. Finally, he takes a deep breath, casting his gaze back down to the clothes in front of him as he talks. "Ever since I met you, Juno, you have helped me more than you know. And so I hope to repay that, in any and every way I can, because I love you, and I want to make you feel loved as I've felt these past few months."

He finally looks up to meet Juno's eyes, and goddamnit, Juno's not crying, he's _not_ , but when he opens his mouth to push out a warbly "Y-you sap," he tastes salt on his lips. In a second, Nureyev is by his side, clambering over the mattress to hold Juno firm in his arms.

"It's alright, love, just let it out, you're okay," he whispers as Juno buries his face in the fabric of his blouse, rubbing a hand along the length of his back until his cries begin to taper off. "There you go. I love you so much, Juno."

"I love you too," Juno croaks, reluctantly removing his face from Nureyev's chest and rolling over onto his back. "Jeez, I forgot how tired crying makes me. I might take another nap, if you wanna..." He gestures between his bed and the half-finished laundry, not sure what he expects Nureyev to do next. Nureyev hums in consideration before abruptly slipping under the covers, sighing with delight as soon as he's pressed close to Juno again. 

"If it's alright with you-"

"You already know it is," Juno mumbles, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. Nureyev worms an arm out from under the covers to click off the light, and his sleeve rides up just enough for Juno to catch a glimpse of curving black scrawled across his wrist and forearm before fabric covers it again. Despite himself, he leans closer, curiosity overcoming the lead that fills his bones.

“Nureyev? What’s on your arm?”

“Nothing of import,” Nureyev replies, so quickly that it’s _definitely_ important. He whips his hand behind his back, lips pressed together in that way only Juno knows means he’s embarrassed. And oh, _now_ he’s interested.

“You sure? ‘Cause you’re acting real weird about it, honey.” The pet name gets him a foot in the door and he leans forward a little more, leveraging himself up so Nureyev can see his carefully honed puppy-dog eyes in all their glory. “ _Please_ lemme see? I promise I won’t tell.”

For all his bluster, Nureyev places his hand in Juno’s pretty quick. He practically melts when Juno rubs a callused thumb along his knuckles, and when Juno pushes his sleeve up, he doesn’t resist at all.

There’s a few seconds where Juno has no idea what he’s seeing. The letters on Nureyev’s arm are… letters, definitely, but they’re scribbled and half-smudged so messily that he has to squint to make them out. Slowly, short phrases puzzle themselves out for him as he traces the curves of the writing with his fingers over and over until they make sense.

_make sure he eats_

_tell him you love him because he’ll forget (? research plot of Princesses of the Lost Divine 23 for context)_

_full bottle of water_

_make sure he knows you’re here of your own will, and that he deserves it (because he does)_

That’s as far as he gets before his eyes begin to well with tears, and he has to let go of Nureyev’s hand to wipe them away.

“Juno? Oh dear- I didn’t mean to make you cry again, love, I am so sorry-”

“‘s not your fault,” Juno chokes out, waving a hand in Nureyev’s general direction as he tries to get a hold of himself. “I’m happy, I promise. Just… means a lot that you thought of me.”

“Oh, Juno.” Nureyev’s arms wrap around him, gently lowering the both of them until they’re nestled comfortably beneath the covers. “I’m always thinking of you.”

“Stop,” Juno says, feeling a laugh work its way through the tears to accompany it. Nureyev chuckles in return, and it’s the sweetest sound Juno’s ever heard.

“Oh, but I could _never_ , my love.” His voice takes on an affect a little like Duke, a little like Dauphin swearing his secret love, the overdramatic flair pulling his posture upwards into an exaggerated arc. “You haunt my every waking moment like the loveliest ghost I’ve ever seen, and you are my last thought before I fall asleep at night, I miss you dreadfully when we are parted-”

“Is that why you’re always clinging to me after we have chores on opposite ends of the ship?”

“...partially.” Nureyev makes eye contact with Juno through his lashes, and suddenly the act is broken as he laughs and slumps back down besides him. It’s not until Nureyev runs a thumb along his cheek that he realizes he’s stopped crying. “But… I mean it, my love. I know that this is a lot to go through, but if there is ever anything I can do to make it an easier burden to bear, I _will_ do it. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Juno says, and he wishes he could say more, because those two words don’t even scratch the surface of everything he feels for the man in front of him. But words are hard, and he’s still tired, so he settles for pressing a lazy kiss to Nureyev’s palm. Peter’s breath hitches when he does it, just like it does every time, and his eyes still sparkle like he’s just received the greatest gift the galaxy could ever offer him. It’s always a rush, knowing that under all his masks and aliases, the truest part of Peter Nureyev loves Juno Steel.

He tugs Nureyev down to kiss him again, taking the opportunity to shuffle the blankets around them so neither of them get left out in the cold. Nureyev immediately rearranges to press as much of his body against Juno’s as possible, letting out a pleased little sound and tucking Juno to his chest. 

Surrounded by the warmth of Peter Nureyev, Juno’s last thought before he drifts back to sleep is that maybe today isn’t such a bad day after all.

**Author's Note:**

> boy oh BOY did i cut this one down to the wire. and by that i mean it's 20 minutes late. if nothing else, at least im consistently shitty at getting things in on time? if you see me popping in here tomorrow to edit no you didnt <3 but in all seriousness, i really did enjoy writing this fic and participating in the tpp valentines event!!! thank you so so much to jay and ly for organizing, yall did amazing :> also go check out the recipient of this gift at hekatosmistart.tumblr.com!! his art is incredible and the piece he drew for this event is so so good!!
> 
> Title from a translation of Flower by Kim Ch'un-Su:  
> We, all of us  
> Long to become something.  
> You for me, and I for you,  
> we long to become a never-to-be-forgotten gaze.
> 
> thank you so much for reading, feel free to check out the other fics on this account if you liked this!! comments and kudos bring me great joy, so if you feel like leaving either it's greatly appreciated. have a wonderful day/night/whenever you read this!!


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